


Spaces

by highwhorelock



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Hurt, Lots of Angst, M/M, Modern Era, Modern Westeros, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highwhorelock/pseuds/highwhorelock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb and Jon aren't talking anymore. The silence is ruining everything, breaking and shattering them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spaces

“Who’s gonna be the first one to start the fight?  
Who’s gonna be the first one to fall asleep at night?  
Who’s gonna be the last one to drive away?  
Who’s gonna be the last one to forget this place?”

 

The city was always alive during the night. Never a dull moment. Bars opening up filled with adults and teens pretending to be adults, couples and families out on fancy dinner dates. Robb just passed all of those by. All he wanted was to go home, away from the noise, away from the stress, and just sink into bed. But unlike most, Robb wasn’t even sure if he was welcome home. He wasn’t even sure if it was home.

 

He sighed when he finally escaped the bustling city, the almost empty road to their suburban home welcoming him. It was dark and eerily quiet but it gave him comfort, not that it mattered really. Every minute that he got closer to home, his heart pounded. Gods, he prayed it was going to be, at least, an uneventful night. Robb didn’t even realize that he was one corner away. Taking the turn, his pale blue eyes landed on the house, seeing the lights still on. It was so late already. He didn’t expect Jon to stay up. Frankly, some part of him wished he was asleep.

 

Entering the house, Robb settled his briefcase of documents on the couch, his hand loosening his tie. Work was choking him and the tie reminded him of that, but even as he removed the clothing, something else was choking him and it wasn’t supposed to be like that. Robb remembered the days when it wasn’t like that at all. “I didn’t know you were coming home tonight.” 

 

He looked up and Jon was at the stairs, staring down at him with those hazel eyes. He couldn’t read what emotions were there but his features were blank, bored. Almost as if he didn’t care and he probably didn’t at that point. “Yeah, I’m sorry… we were so packed the other day. They needed all hands on deck. I just…” He gestured lamely and ended with a shrug. “I’m home now.”

 

Silence. It grew, making them uncomfortable, until it settled like a barrier between them, hardening and burning out what was once so passionate. And they let it. Their fucking prides just let it.

 

“Okay.” Jon merely nodded and stepped down, heading for the kitchen and not even sparing Robb a glance. “There’s Mexican in the fridge.” It pained Robb, of course, in moments like this that they would play this stupid game of ‘who’s gonna cave in first’. No one really wins in this game. He didn’t follow Jon. He didn’t follow what every fiber of being wanted which is to just wrap his arms around that man and kiss him like everything’s alright. He didn’t cave in but he so wanted to.

 

Jon was leaning on the table, fingers wrapped around a glass of water, gripping too tightly that he might break it. He was trembling and felt so cold. There were no warm arms around him, the arms that made him feel safe and gave him comfort and with this his heart turned numb, mouth swallowing back those sobs that threatened. Bottling up emotions was never a good practice but here he is, perfecting it already.

 

“Spaces between us keep getting deeper.  
It’s harder to reach you even though I tried.  
Spaces between us hold all our secrets.  
Leaving us speechless and I don’t know why.”

 

1:30 A.M. Neither of them was asleep.

 

Robb was outside the balcony, enjoying the company of gray smoke and nicotine in his system. It was the only thing keeping him off the edge now. Jon was in bed reading a book, said that he would sleep if he felt like it. Neither would have the guts to look at the other or speak and they both know that they should. These unsaid words were choking them. Jon wasn’t reading, no, the words were a blur in front of him and so were his thoughts. The silence was deafening, pounding right in his ears. What was he supposed to say? What was he even feeling right now?

 

The older, on the other hand, was enjoying a memory. A rather old memory of Jon and himself, all smiles and teasing and promises of loving each other. Robb stopped. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to love a memory, he didn’t want Jon and him to be just a memory. He could feel his heart thudding dully against his chest, the same heart that would beat rapidly at the mere thought of Jon, excited and eager or steady but strong, content like it knows and it’s sure what it wants. But what does it want now?

 

“Do you still love me?”

 

The soft voice cracked the night’s silence and Robb was almost grateful for it. The question, however, bothered him. It bothered him because it didn’t even surprise him that he was asked. Like he was waiting and needing to hear the question from Jon.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Who’s gonna be the first one to compromise?  
Who’s gonna be the first one to set it all on fire?  
Who’s gonna be the last one to drive away?  
Forgetting every single promise we ever made.”

 

Crash!

 

The usual silent house was pierced with porcelain shattering on the ground. The shouting ceased, replaced with heavy breaths. Suddenly everything was still as they stared blankly at the broken pieces of the vase Robb knocked over out of spite. He was always a man of words but right now, he was speechless as always when it came to Jon, his impulses taking over. He was hurt. It hurt everywhere but Robb didn’t want it to anymore. Heartbreak was never something he learned to cope with, at least not this bad. He needed it to hurt somewhere else.

 

That’s why he pushed over the bloody vase, that’s why there was blood from his knuckles painting the wall. Jon was trembling on the couch, keeping his tears to himself. He begged Robb to stop but he didn’t listen. Gods, why was he so stubborn? His bag full of clothes sat on floor, ready to go and just mocking Robb from where he stood.

 

He’s going to leave and it’s all your fault. You should’ve tried harder. If he’s not leaving tonight then it’s because you had to be dramatic and forced him to stay. Broken. All of this, it’s broken.

 

Silence once more. Gods, how he hated it. Robb sat at the end of the stairs, bloodshot eyes staring blankly at the door. Once again, he wasn’t sure what to do, what to fix, if it’s still even something he can fix. He remembered a few nights ago when Jon asked if he still loved him. What a stupid answer he gave. He should’ve said yes in a heartbeat.

 

“Who’s gonna be the first to say goodbye?”


End file.
